


Stupid Love Songs

by chucks_prophet



Series: All Along the Winchesters [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is Not Oblivious, Driving, Episode: s09e07 Bad Boys, First Dates, Fluff, Humor, Love Confessions, Love songs, M/M, Music, Nervous Dean, Reference to s09e07, References to Sex, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, accidental love confession, reference to masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 09:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: "I mean, I can handle you being uncomfortable seeing me in my natural form—or, you know, Jimmy's, technically, since this was his vessel first. That's a big step yet. But did you really think you could stop Marvin Gaye from professing his love?"Dean gulps. Shit."Did you mean that?" Cas asks, eyes and mouth softening into smiles, "You love me?"





	Stupid Love Songs

**Author's Note:**

> Another huge thanks to my best friend for giving me these songs to work with for the fic. <333

Dean hasn't been on a date since he was 16.

Come to think of it, Robin was his first _and_ his last date. He remembers his heart training for the triathlon seeing Robin at her doorstep in a sunflower dress and her imitation gold guitar earrings and his hands gripping onto her carnations a little too tight.

Basically, that's what he's feeling right now. Except, Cas is _right friggin' across from him_ in the passenger seat in a black London Fog trench coat—that's right: a _black_ trench coat—with the white button down Cas kept all these years from the Gas n' Sip, a thin black tie, and the two-piece jewelry he's wearing are those big, sapphire eyes that Dean's probably imagining glistening at the moment. Maybe it's because the moon's headlights are streaming through the driver window, but it only adds to Cas's elegance.

Oh, and his hands are gripping his Chevy's steering wheel over a bouquet of flowers.

"Dean, is everything okay?"

Dean licks his lips. "Yeah," he chokes out. "Um, no, yeah, I just... I'm really hungry."

"I'd be more worried if you weren't."

Dean laughs nervously glancing over and seeing the small tilt of Cas's head and a toothy smile. His stubble is gone, like a night sky that shaved itself of its stars, so his face crinkles where more prominent smile lines should be. The last time Dean saw him smile was four years ago, and that was because of April.

He tries not to think about that. "You wanna pop in some tunes?"

Cas's mouth pops open like the cassette player in front of them. "I... um... I don't know."

"Cas, I'm not asking you to choose wallpaper."

"No, I know, it's just... don't you usually choose the music?"

"I'm willing to drop the shotgun shuts his cakehole rule for the handsome passenger," Dean says, trying to be as suave as possible. Truth is, he’s too nervous to even think about what to wear tonight, eventually settling for one of his FBI uniforms. And he can use the distraction.

Luckily, Dean's comment works, putting an immediate blush on Cas's face as he reaches for the box of never-ending cassettes (despite the era ending many moons ago). "There are a lot of hair metal bands in here," Cas remarks after a minute of searching. Dean swaps a glance between Cas and the box like Cas is winding up the toy that'll pop out of it any second.

"It's called... mullet rock..." Dean replies with almost no conviction in his tone. "And I'm sure there's more in there. Just pick something, anything."

Okay, _that_ sounded desperate, but he's not sure what to do. He feels like a dog with his head out the window of a moving car, trying to catch his breath from all the excitement. The scene around him is changing rapidly too. He and Cas got upgraded to a romantic (and possibly sexual) relationship. For nine years, Dean's been riding comfortably at five miles an hour with everything, the stolen glances, the half-smiles, the "I need you”—that was even pushing it before the "I love you".

But now they're in the carpool lane and they have to try and keep up with the traffic. If, you know, traffic includes not only juggling a new kind of budding relationship, but all kinds of monsters and demons and ghosts on top of it.

Dean's thought is interrupted by the silence across from him: Cas stops thumbing through the archive of tapes and puts one in. After a few clicks, music starts playing over the stereo.

But not just any music.

"I'll Make Love To You" by Boyz II Men.

Dean starts coughing, trying to cancel out the sultry piano and vocals of the Morris brothers and company, "Huh, Sam must've left one of his tapes in there."

Cas narrows his eyes. "But if Sam never gets to pick the music, why would he have—?"

"Maybe the next song will be better," Dean cuts him off, pressing all but gently on the knob for the next song. "I've never been a big Boys II Men fan anyway."

Perhaps he's not a Boys II Men fan, but is he a Color Me Badd kind of guy?

And the unfortunately true answer is yes. Dean made this mix a while back and kept it in the bin for his own guilty pleasure that… well, let's just say, typically ends on a high note.

_"I wanna sex you_

_All night_

_You make me feel good_

_I wanna rub you down_

_I wanna sex you up_

_Let me take off all your—”_

"Heh, maybe we'll have better luck with the next song," Dean says, slamming on the knob despite the blush spreading across his own face. "Zeppelin has some good love songs too, you know."

But the third song isn't Zeppelin. No, it's Marvin Gaye. And it's "Let's Get It On".

Fuck it, he thinks. As long as he doesn't focus on the lyrics with Cas next to him, he'll be fine.

Of course, that works as well as trying to avoid Misfits shirts at the local tween mall. (He still has nightmares about the time he and Cas shopped in Hot Topic.)

Especially when it gets to the second verse.

_"We're all sensitive people_

_With so much to give_

_Understand me, sugar_

_Since we've got to be here_

_Let's live_

_I—”_

"What?" Cas asks, confused as the tape sails between them and flops onto the backseat with the flick of Dean's wrist. "Why did you—?"

"It was boring me.”

"Pull over."

Dean's eyes spread wide. "What?"

"Pull. Over."

Dean does as he's told, parking parallel to a cornfield large enough to feed a whole army of aliens. He turns to Cas, heart still pounding. His expression is unreadable. His eyes are determined, crinkled a little where the skin meets his temples, but a smile is evident. "Are you trying to send me a subliminal message?"

Dean blinks a few times and parts his mouth in confusion. "Um... what?"

"Dean, I know all these songs," Cas says, "Remember, Metatron? Blast of pop culture knowledge?" He starts to laugh, "Seriously, you're as subtle as a mother trying to shield her grown son from fornication."

"Please, don't call it that—"

"I mean, I can handle you being uncomfortable seeing me in my natural form—or, you know, _Jimmy's,_ technically, since this was his vessel first. That's a big step yet. But did you really think you could stop Marvin Gaye from professing his love?"

Dean gulps. Shit.

"Did you mean that?" Cas asks, eyes and mouth softening into smiles, "You love me?"

Dean takes a pause, which proves to be totally useless because what comes out of his suddenly dry mouth is: "I mean... technically Marvin said it."

Cas rolls his eyes, but does Dean a favor by leaning over and kissing him. He tastes like aftershave and his afternoon tea with the dash of honey he still insists on collecting himself.

Dean lifts his hand to weave his calloused fingers through Cas's hair and grips as he leans forward, presses firmer against Cas’s lips before enclosing around them again, kissing him like he means it.

Like he loves him.

Although, it'll be a while before he actually says it. Some things can afford to be taken slow.


End file.
